


though the stars walk backwards

by Ethelred



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemons, M/M, Pre-Canon, Young!Harry, Young!Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethelred/pseuds/Ethelred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snippet of what was supposed to be a bigger Harry/Merlin/Eggsy work— I might finish it if I have the time. Meanwhile, enjoy some pre-canon Harry/Merlin!</p>
            </blockquote>





	though the stars walk backwards

“The green wire, Harry, the green wire!” whispered Aeliana, her paws nervously tapping against the dusty floor. Some commotion could be heard form outside the bolted door, then a sudden bang, then— nothing. Harry swore under his breath.

            “I’m almost there, Ana. Check the car for me?”

Harry’s daemon silently crossed the room, hauling herself up on a rusty window-frame. From their position, the gateway car was barely visible in the rugged Scottish surroundings. Trees and electrical installations mingled into dark shapes, contrasting with the building’s moonlight-doused silvery hues. For now, there were no signs of suspicious activity.

“Clear,” confirmed Aeliana. “Hurry though.” The daemon went to position herself between the door and her human. Muscles taut, ears listening to whatever was going on behind the door, she waited, ready to pounce on whomever would come in.

Harry cut another two of the wires he was holding, stopping the device’s countdown. Throwing one last glance to the door, then to the device, he packed up his tools in a small pouch. He rose from his kneeling position, dust clinging to the fabric of his trousers— cleaning would have to wait, though. Another loud bang sounded through the door as he unpacked a thin but sturdy-looking rope. Harry and his daemon exchanged a glance then hurried to the window. He knelt again, putting on black half-fingered gloves. Aeliana climbed atop his back with fluidity, quickly finding her equilibrium as she secured her paws into his custom-made shoulder holster. Together, they slid down the rope in swift movements— Harry’s shoes barely making any noise against the building’s surface.

They had already made it to the gateway car by the time the door burst open. Heading towards their extraction point, Harry slid up a hand in his daemon’s thick fur when his earpiece line crackled—

“Mission complete. You were the first to finish. Welcome to Kingsman, Galahad, Aeliana. Report to HQ immediately. Merlin out.”

The sudden voice startled Harry, who tightened his grip in Aeliana’s fur. A relieved smile started to stretch his lips.

“Everything ok? Was that HQ?” asked the daemon.

Harry patted her one last time then, as he stomped on the accelerator, put both hands on the wheel. The nearby trees blurred into menacing dark shapes as they sped through the hills.

“Yeah, Ana,” he chuckled. “We made it. We made it and we have to check in with Arthur, and then we can finally see if Merlin is as unavailable as ever. I reckon we stand a chance. Ruairidh might even talk to you, who knows. And becoming Merlin only four years after recruitment, I mean… He’s got to be a genius, and I know you love geniuses. But—” Aeliana huffed, amused by Harry’s poorly disguised interest, “—yes, I know, work first. Always. Don’t let me forget that…”

Harry stopped after a sharp turn or two near an uneven row of trees. Car ditched, they made their way into a clearing in the woods, where a dark helicopter stood. Aeliana and Harry climbed in together, signalling to the pilot they were ready to fly back to HQ.

 

“No.”

“But you haven’t finished to listen to—” Harry was abruptly cut off by a very annoyed, very busy Merlin.

“Galahad. You’ve made yourself clear, though it was quite obliviously so during the training period.”

A faint blush dusted Harry’s cheekbones, which Merlin promptly ignored. Ruairidh looked at Aeliana with eyes full of curiosity, the leopard daemon staring him down. Merlin went back to his desk, half a dozen mobile phone prototypes laying around, and started to tinker with electronic circuits again. Eyes set on the task at hand, he carried on with a stern tone.

“I am not as blatant as you are, nor open with it. But I definitely know what my preferences are and, at the moment, they might be of the sort but not of the nature you require. A sexual relationship is the least of my worries— and let me tell you, I have a lot of worrying to do with you lot, running around guns blazing and wreaking havoc. That is to say,” Merlin inhaled deeply, “that if I ever feel inclined towards anything of the kind, I will let you know in due time.” He put down his metallic tongs with a soft clang and pushed away the dioptic-fixture-slash-magnifying-glass he was using, looking up at Harry, resignation etched in his features.

“In the meantime, feel free to pursue your interests elsewhere. I don’t expect you to understand my needs, or anyone else for that matter. It’s fine the way it is.”

Aeliana took back her paw as if she were scalded, Ruairidh unaware that they were touching in the first place. It took Harry a few seconds to regain his bearings. Shoulders tense, hands closing into fists, he took a deliberate step towards Merlin’s desk. His voice was low as it resonated in the room.

“There’s a lot you won’t let me understand.”

Harry’s daemon scooted closer to him, defiant.

“We won’t bother you again, though I wish we could remain on the path of friendship. If you wanted to, I mean.” He threw a glance in Ruairidh’s direction, hoping for a spark of acknowledgement, anything—

“I don’t see why not, Galahad,” answered Merlin. “Harry. I do enjoy your company, my rant about personal preferences notwithstanding.”

At that, Harry let out a sigh. The tension in his body eased a bit, his features schooling a hopeful smile. He didn’t manage to hide it completely, his eyes crinkling just on the side of relieved. As Harry and Merlin resumed their initial discussion about possible future equipment, Aeliana let out a quiet purr and reached out for Merlin’s daemon again. Ruairidh nosed her paw, tentatively, entirely too careful to be anything but restrained— which did not escape Aeliana’s notice. Feeling playful, she bumped her head against him, a silent dare to come hither. Ignoring his human’s earlier reticence, Ruairidh let his resolve crumble and snuggled closer to her, clawing at her fur. It took Aeliana a few seconds to catch up on the fact that Harry had left the room and she had not followed, leaving her alone with a very busy Merlin and a very clingy Ruairidh. With one last glance, eyes intent and full of promises, she hurried out of the room and back to her human— as strange as it felt, their recent Separation made them less attuned to the other; and while they would always feel the dull soreness of irreversible distance, they had wowed to stay as close as possible. That had garnered quite a few remarks from HQ as Harry took Aeliana with him for almost every mission he was sent on. It was not against protocol, per say, but it did endanger them both each time: Aeliana was hardly conspicuous, and that made her an easy target for anyone clever enough to look. It only made them more ruthless and lethal, in their own opinion. No one in HQ was foolish enough to try and come between Harry and his daemon, Arthur be damned.

 

Again. He had done it again. Less than a year into the position of Galahad and Harry had needed medical evac twice. Merlin scratched the top of his getting-there-but-not-quite-yet-bald head, listening to the audio from Harry’s hidden microphone. A lot of huffing and shuffling later, he could barely make out two violent slaps and a muffled groan before the feed went dead, blasting white noise out of his speakers. He turned down the volume in a hurry; sound echoing in his office. Startled, Ruairidh looked up from his small computer base— his human seemed at a loss, Harry’s reckless attempt at saving the mission all but ruining Merlin’s usual composure. They knew better than to get attached to agents, even if they were required to do the odd field job every now and then. The cult group Harry was investigating seemed harmless enough, a moderate threat at best; they had made sure he had enough intel for it to be a simple recon mission. Ruairidh could feel the shame and worry seep through his bond, which— no, that would not do. He exited the office through his tiny rabbit-sized trap door, leaving Merlin to mope at his desk, and set out to the HQ’s medical ward.

He was halfway down the corridor when Aeliana burst through, gaze wild. The pain forced her to limp but her stubbornness kept her from doing anything reasonable about it— such as, say, keep still and quiet. Spotting the daemon, she halted and slumped against the wall with a groan. Ruairidh hurried to her side, relieved. That meant Harry had regained consciousness, too, even if he was bedridden still. He went up to hop on Aeliana’s neck, twisting to lick at her face, his movements uncoordinated.

“You alright? You alright, Ana?” he asked urgently. She let out a sigh in acknowledgement.

“Yeah, yes. We’re good. The evac was right on time. Two minutes later and things would’ve been drastically different. Merlin was top notch once again.”

“I’m relieved. We’re relieved, so relieved. You don’t even know. Merlin, he…” Ruairidh shuddered, inching closer to the daemon’s ear, “after the feed went offline he just closed off. I mean, he even shut me out. I think he thought you two were done for.”

The daemon rubbed his small paws into Aeliana’s matted fur, trying to relieve the tension in her sore muscles. She wasn’t injured apart from some minor cuts. The worst was coming from Harry, whose pain irradiated their bond with every move— he was under painkillers, she wasn’t. A few minutes passed in silence, Aeliana’s eyes drifting shut under Ruairidh’s ministrations. He thought she fell asleep until he heard those hushed, terrified words—

“I killed them, Ru. I killed humans.”

The use of a nickname would’ve pissed him off were it any other daemon, he remarked offhandedly, but her confession… Letting out the ugly truth, laying it bare: Aeliana trusted him enough to confide in him, and the reality of what she had to do sickened him to the core. Harry was definitely in extreme danger, then, if she had no other choice than tearing apart their opponents to protect her human. And it was her first time, too— even the best Kingsman training did not quite prepare agents for first times like these.

“They had him right there, tied to a chair, I could tell he was losing consciousness… The pain kept me awake, but I needed to do something. Anything. They’d hurt Harry… I didn’t even think,” Aeliana whispered, “and I did it. I did it and I’d do it again if I could.”

Ruairidh let his tiny claws dig in her skin, the contact just enough to make her shudder.

“You did what you had to do, Ana. You did what you had to do.”

With a last troubled sigh, the daemon gave in to her exhaustion and promptly fell asleep, right there in the corridor. It was a good thing it all happened in the dead of the night or they would’ve gotten some incredulous stares, from agents and staff alike.

“I would’ve done the same,” Ruairidh added, once he was sure she was out, “and Merlin would’ve helped too. You were right, Ana. Anything.”

 

Harry tightened his quilted blue dressing gown around his waist and got out of his room, Aeliana and Mr Pickle in tow. Since his discharge from medical, he was asked to stay in HQ for regular check-ups. He occupied one of the en-suites left at the knights’ disposal. Comfortable though impersonal, Harry tried his hardest not to flee back to his house at the first occasion he could. He only had a few days left before medical gave him the all clear. His curly mop of hair bounced up and down as he dashed down the stairs, a hand grabbing at the packet of cigarettes in his pocket. The weather was somewhat bleaker than usual, but he figured Mr Pickle needed the fresh air— and he needed the smoke. The dog rushed past them as he opened the front doors, passing a disgruntled Percival on the stone staircase, hummingbird daemon nowhere in sight. Harry and Aeliana greeted him with a nod as they crossed paths. As Aeliana went to play with Mr Pickle on the grass, Harry sat down on the last step and lit up a cigarette. His quilted dressing gown didn’t quite manage to spare him from the damp cold as he started to shiver slightly, putting up his collar in a vain attempt to save some body heat. He took in a long drag, holding it in for a few seconds before letting it out in a long exhale. He was about to take in another when he heard soft footsteps behind him, then felt a heavy blanket drape across his shoulders. Harry almost let his cigarette slip through his fingers, scrambling to get it back without burning himself in the process.

“Thought it was you I saw, freezing your sorry arse off with your poor excuse of a coat and no fucking scarf.” The familiar accent made Harry turn around, surprised. Merlin sat next to him, decked out in his dark coat and gloves. His daemon was perched atop his shoulder, cool as you please. Harry tightened the blanket around his chest.

“Happy New Year to you too, Merlin.” He chuckled. Merlin ruffled his hair in retaliation.

“You have to take care of yourself, Harry. I’m not joking.”

It was the first time they talked since that blasted mission. It was the first time Merlin touched him at all. It made Harry’s skin tingle. Barely managing to get a hold on himself, he took another drag of his cigarette to avoid saying anything he might regret, looking back to where Aeliana was playing on the grass.

“I’ll try. Won’t promise anything though, you know how it is. Comes with the job, as you know,” Harry said. “Thanks for getting me out so quick, by the way. Last time.”

“Should’ve been quicker,” Merlin answered in a quiet voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you sooner. Had a lot of work to do.” He absently scratched Ruairidh under his chin. The humans had no idea of what went down between their daemons on that night, in the corridor. The daemons had kept it to themselves, afraid it would scare their humans and drive them apart. All in due time, they thought. All in due time. Which seemed right about now.

Ruairidh nosed at Merlin’s fingers and hopped down, leaving the two men alone. He joined Aeliana and Mr Pickle on the grass, the daemon helping him climb on her back. Together, they ran after the dog whose small yaps of excitement made them giggle.

Merlin cleared his throat, turning around so he could face Harry’s side. Despite the warm blanket, he couldn’t help but notice how red the shell of his ear was, how red the tip of his nose was, how red his lips were after each drag of the cigarette. Harry took his time to finish it, making a show of crumpling and flicking the butt when he was done. Inhaling deeply, his lashes fluttered one, two, three times before he turned around to face Merlin. His mouth was set, corners resolute— the atmosphere had shifted and they both felt it, yet both were at a loss for words, waiting for the other to talk. Merlin cleared his throat a second time, words on the tip of his tongue—

“You know, I’ve never trusted anyone so quickly before,” Harry said, pondering, “and while my conquests were always good company, I have very few friends. You might be the only one, now, in fact. Aeliana is… Ana’s rather taken with you as well, even if she has… difficulties admitting it. She often teases me about it. I thought you ought to know.” He glanced at his feet, pensive. The movement made Merlin look down which, well— bad idea, it seemed, because it only made him notice Harry’s ankles and how delicate they looked; the bare expanse of skin contrasting sharply with his dark slippers and his dark pyjama flannels, the tendons flexing as Harry started to rise up.

“Wait,” Merlin called out, a gloved hand aborting Harry’s movement, “wait. I wanted to tell you something, I just…”

Harry sat back down on the steps, curious, hopeful.

“What I told you a few months ago. About me, and about sex being the least of my worries, and about me not expecting you to understand it.”

Harry nodded, trying to convey all the warmth he felt whenever the other man was concerned.

“I usually don’t care for sex, or it just doesn’t interest me. The thing is, recently…” Merlin trailed off, then started again. “To be completely honest with you, it seems that I want sexual relations only with you and only at certain times. There it is. I’ve said it.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up at Merlin’s bluntness, his quiet bravado crushing against the tide of possibilities that just rose in front of him.

“Fuck, Merlin…”

Merlin waited, unsure of the answer he would get— he wasn’t even sure he had asked a question in the first place. Harry closed his eyes for a moment, hand rubbing at his mouth.

“Ok, so, let me put it like this. I know sex isn’t your thing, and I respect that. Unusual, but not unheard of, at least not in my circles. I was interested in you, you became interested in me, I trust you, we are friends. I am happy if you are happy. If that means that you want to, from time to time, let off a little steam… I would be more than inclined to follow you up on that.” Harry took a deep breath, eyes boring into Merlin’s. “I am serious. I trust you to tell me your limits and I will respect them, as I know you will respect mine. You don’t want this anymore, I won’t push.” He looked at his hands as he uttered his last sentence, voice low in his throat. “I just don’t want to wait and waste and fuel anymore regrets than we can bear.”

Merlin blinked and swallowed down the lump in his throat, offering a gloved hand to Harry like one would give out a piece offering.

“I was wrong, you know. You do understand, you do more than understand,” Merlin said, “and I think it’s what makes all the difference. Thank you.”

At that, their daemons slowly approached the staircase, aware that something had changed between their humans. Ruairidh was still on top of Aeliana, enjoying the ride while Mr Pickle trotted obediently behind them, tired from all their running around. Harry put his hand in Merlin’s for an instant and, finally, stood up; making sore joints pop as he stretched, blanket forgotten where it fell on Merlin’s lap. Ruairidh hopped from Aeliana’s back to Merlin’s shoulder where he made himself comfortable. Harry extended a hand to Merlin, helping him to his feet.

“It’s a deal, then, dear friend.” And with that, Harry let go of Merlin, resting his hand in his daemon’s soft fur. They exchanged a glance, Aeliana letting out a quiet purr as she understood what had just happened. Merlin nodded, the faintest of smirks stretching the corner of his mouth. He picked up the blanket and started to climb the stairs, stopping after a few steps.

“Come on, puppy,” he threw in Mr Pickle’s direction, “let’s go warm up inside.”

            They all followed on his footsteps until the front door was safely closed behind them, bleak weather completely forgotten.

 

Merlin only had to wait 20 days before the organisation hit its first rough patch of the year. With three of their agents getting seriously injured during a mission in Azerbaijan and flying back presto to HQ, the Cold War was at the forefront of everyone’s mind, never mind the troubles stirring up the Persian Gulf. It had sent Arthur in a proper gentleman frenzy that resumed, by anyone else’s standards, to an especially bad mood— pissy snide remarks and poorly-made decisions even more pissy and poorly-made than usual. Nobody was spared; knights, handlers, or staff alike.

“At this rate,” Ruairidh piped up, “you’re going to be bald before the 2000s. Let’s get out of the office, Merlin. There’s nothing we can do for the next 5 hours. I’m tired, come on.” His tiny paws dug into Merlin’s forearm, cashmere jumper doing fuck all to stop the pinching of his claws.

“Alright, ok.” Merlin logged off his station after a final check-up of the injured agents’ flight course, setting up alarms if anything were to happen. “Let’s go,” he said, offering his arm for his daemon to climb onto, “off to bed.”

As they were walking through the HQ’s corridors (blissfully quiet this late in the evening), they stumbled upon a very disgruntled Aeliana. The leopard daemon was agitated, eyes darting to every corner and every door. She approached as soon as she saw them.

“I’m looking for Harry, have you seen him?” she grumbled, her usual poise nowhere to be seen. “I haven’t lost him in months, I don’t… I don’t know why he went away, I know he got angry over something Arthur said, but… We were just back from the Berlin mission… I think he’s fallen asleep now, I’ve been really tired for the past few minutes… If he could just—”

“Let’s look for him,” Ruairidh offered, “let’s go together. I might have an idea.” Too tired to object and because he kind of missed Harry too, Merlin followed the directions his daemon was whispering in his ear, Aeliana in tow. They went up the old building, going through heavily carpeted corridors, then took a really creaky and really small wooden staircase that led to an equally creaky and small wooden door. Merlin knew the HQ’s blueprints by heart, but he had never explored this part of the manor before. Ruairidh whispered in his ear. With a slight thrill, he twisted the handle and opened the door.

The room, dimly lit by a desk lamp, revealed rows and rows of ancient-looking books— the shelves went up to the ceiling and around the room, only stopping around a small-paned window. The scent of yellowed paper and decade-old dust impregnated every surface, even though the room was clean. It made the surroundings drip with something secretive, something warm; giving off the feeling that they were safe from the world, and allowed to revel in the intimacy of the space. Merlin closed the door, shrouding them in it; the comfort a welcome respite. As if on cue, Aeliana let out a sigh. Next to the desk was a deep-red-cosy-looking couch. On it, Harry, fast asleep.

His head was half-propped against the armrest, a large cushion squished behind his back. The lamp was angled right above his head, its dim glow softening Harry’s features— even in his sleep he looked tense, unable to get proper rest. A facedown book laid open on his chest, arms awkwardly folded over it. His right foot dangled off the couch. Harry had made himself comfortable, though; his shoes and socks were discarded on the floor next to his travel bag, suit jacket and shoulder holster neatly folded on the desk. He had rolled up his shirtsleeves and put away his tie, leaving the first buttons of his collar open. Merlin swallowed thickly. The spike of a warm something settled low in his guts, unusual, and not quite unwelcome. Ruairidh tightened his grasp on him, claws deliberately digging in his shoulder. They both suppressed a shudder.

“You daft prick, Harry,” whispered Aeliana; more to herself than for anyone else. Relieved, she went to Harry’s side and stood there, resting her head on his belly. The movement made Harry stir. Half awake, he petted his daemon’s head, instinctively relaxing around the familiar presence. It was as if Merlin saw them properly, as if he saw them for the first time. They had dropped their carefully crafted self-confidence, leaving everything else out in the open: the gentleness, the vulnerability, the quiet power underneath. He approached and sat down, kneeling at Harry’s side.

“Harry, wake up.”

Harry hummed low in his throat, turning his head towards the familiar voice. His eyes blinked once, twice before he managed to keep them open, frowning as his gaze set on a very close and very focused Merlin.

“Whaddaya doing here?” he asked, not quite able to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Aeliana was looking for you,” Merlin replied. “Ruairidh figured you were hiding here and guided us to you.” The daemon looked at Harry intently, nodding. He gave Merlin a last squeeze before hopping on Aeliana’s back. She stood up straight and walked away from the couch, deciding on a nice carpeted spot, settling there and making herself comfortable. Ruairidh nestled against her as she started to lick his fur, the contact making both men weak in the knees. They looked at their daemons, their outburst of familiarity mesmerising— the daemons pointedly ignored them, continuing to pet the other.

“I’m sorry I bothered you. I had a rough mission,” Harry said, “and I needed the space.” His gaze fixed back on Merlin; full of something he couldn’t quite put a name on. Merlin felt the sharp twist of heat in his gut again. He lifted a hand to take Harry’s book, careful not to touch him, Harry’s breath hitching at the loss; and set the book on the desk.

“I’ve had quite a rough day as well,” Merlin said, head down. “I was off to bed, actually…” At that, Harry left his left hand and put it on Merlin’s shoulder. He waited an instant then, very slowly, trailed his hand up to the juncture of Merlin’s neck, his thumb stilling right at the collar of his jumper— asking Merlin for permission, for forgiveness, for anything. Merlin inhaled shakily, closing his eyes.

“Harry, I think—” Harry took his hand away and folded it against his own chest, fingers ghosting over his throat. The other man opened his eyes at the loss.

“—I’m sorry, Merlin, I just—”

“Harry,” he interjected, “Harry. I want...” Harry’s eyes went wide as he felt Merlin’s fingertips rest against his lips, soft, pleading. “I want you to make me feel good, Harry. I want to make you feel good. Now. If you are still interested.”

Harry smiled against Merlin’s fingertips. “Need to let off a little steam?”

“Quite so, dear friend,” he answered. “Quite so.”

Harry threw his head back at his reply, laughing with delight. Merlin licked his lips, letting the warm twists and spikes spread throughout his body. His hand trailed down Harry’s exposed neck, and at that Harry’s laughter died a little bit in his throat, the fingers going further down and caressing his collarbones. Harry’s hand grabbed Merlin’s and his laughter morphed into a sigh, his head turning towards the kneeling man beside him.

“Of course I’m interested.” He tugged at Merlin’s hand. “Come here, Merlin.”

The man quickly rose to his feet, bringing a baffled Harry halfway up with him. Harry used the momentum to settle in a sitting position, bracketing Merlin between his knees. He glanced at their daemons. Still nestled against each other, they were whispering into the other’s ear, oblivious to anything else; then he looked up at Merlin. Heavy-lidded, he let his tongue dart out to wet his lips— and if Merlin felt a bit tired on the way here, he was definitely well awake right now; the sight of Harry sending a surge of arousal down his spine. Harry put his hands on Merlin’s hips and brought his face closer, letting his chin rest atop the growing bulge inside Merlin’s trousers. He wet his lips again.

“May I?” he rasped out, hands tightening around Merlin.

“Ye…yeah. Yes please.”

Harry let out a shaky breath and pushed his head away, hands deftly unbuttoning Merlin’s trousers. He pushed them down a few inches, revealing dark green briefs. Merlin shivered under Harry’s touch as he started mouthing at the fabric— Merlin fell forward and braced himself against the couch, arms stretched, hands firmly gripping the backrest. He groaned when he felt a hint of teeth barely scraping his erection, the friction torture against his briefs. Harry, satisfied at his freshly-made wet spot, pushed down the layer of fabric to reveal Merlin’s cock. The man let out a curse as Harry slid down his hand, delicately twisting his wrist and tightening his grip when he stopped at the base. Using his hand, he guided Merlin to his mouth, letting the head of his cock rest against his lips. He licked the tip with a flick of his tongue, then another, then— stopped. Merlin looked down at him, breathing heavily. He looked back with mirth in his eyes, and Merlin understood that Harry had him right where he wanted, unable to look away as he barely opened his mouth and pushed towards Merlin, cock rubbing against his lips and sliding inside. Merlin let out a low moan, the friction just on the side of agonizing. Harry held his gaze for a few seconds before closing his eyes and setting out a measured rhythm. Merlin held on tighter, his fingers digging into the backrest. He suppressed a whine when Harry moaned low in his throat, vibrations making the heat coil deep in his gut. Harry’s rhythm became sloppier, more erratic, and Merlin risked a glance downwards. Spit had gathered around the hand at the base and all over Harry’s lips, shining oh so slightly, the breach and stretch of his mouth obscene, his mop of curls bobbing up and down with each movement. He was well on his way to looking utterly debauched, and Merlin felt himself crumble a bit at the thought. Harry started to slide his hand up and down in time with his mouth, eliciting a whimper from Merlin— until Merlin noticed Harry’s other hand, pressing in rhythm against his own crotch, and the whimper broke into a full-out whine, surprised and heated and full of need. Harry started to slow down then stopped completely, his hand giving a last tug at Merlin’s cock as he reclined against the couch, the other wiping the spit around his mouth. He gazed into Merlin’s eyes and smirked.

“Don’t worry, we’re far from done here,” his voice a bit rough and out of breath. “I was thinking you could lie down, like I suggested earlier. You should take those off, though,” Harry’s hands motioning at their clothes.

Merlin wasted no time in taking off his shoes and socks, tugging down his trousers and letting them pool on the floor. He stepped out of them and the briefs followed suit, then the jumper, then the shirt— fumbling a bit with his tie, hands shakier than usual. Harry had stood up, looking at him appreciatively. His hand lifted up to start on his shirt buttons but Merlin closed the gap between them, swatting his hand away.

“Please.” At the request, Harry let his hand fall back, taken aback, allowing Merlin to unbutton the shirt and guide him out of his clothes with tender movements. Once they were both naked Merlin put a hand on Harry’s chest, softly raking blunt nails down Harry’s ribs. He noticed how hard they both were, and it made Merlin shudder with anticipation.

“What exactly did you had in mind, Harry?” he asked, tone warm and just on the side of teasing. Harry’s tilted his head to the side, pensive— eyes lighting up a few seconds later.

“Well, we’re lucky I have something here,” he gestured to the travel bag next to his shoes, “that will greatly help us. In the meantime, go lie down on the couch, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be ready in a minute.” Harry went to fetch the bag then did a double-take at the door, noticing it was unlocked— he walked to close the latch and verified it was secure, coming back once he was satisfied. Merlin could’ve sworn there was a skip in his step as he went to the desk, dropping the bag and starting to rummage through it. With a pleased exclamation, he took out the small pouch he was looking for, spilling its contents over the desk. He grabbed a square foil packet and a small bottle— condom and lube, then. Definitely useful. Merlin, who was half-sprawled on the couch, craned his neck to follow Harry’s movements. In an instant Harry was hovering over Merlin then settling atop of him, moving down until his legs straddled the other man’s. Bottle wedged between Merlin and the backrest, he ripped open the foil package. At Merlin’s surprise, Harry slid the condom down his cock. It elicited an approving moan from the man, who had just caught up with whatever Harry was planning. Grasping his erection in a tight fist, he watched with heavy-lidded eyes as Harry opened the bottle and spread some lube on his fingers; giving a slippery tug on Merlin’s cock, then coating his fingers again and reaching around, his thighs quivering against Merlin’s, his mouth dropping open—

“Christ, Harry.” Merlin couldn’t help the expletive from escaping his lips. Harry looked down at him, offering a weak smile.

“I… It’s been a while,” he let out, breathing deeply. “Been wanting this for so long—” His mouth closed shut, blush dusting his cheekbones. Trying not to blurt out any more embarrassing confessions he focused on the sensations coursing though his body, on the movement of his wrist and the stretching of his fingers. He added a third one moments later. His slip hadn’t gone past Merlin who put his other hand against Harry’s hip; thumb stroking the skin there, telling him it was alright. Harry rocked against his fingers one last moment then stilled, breathing laboured, and looked at Merlin intently.

“You ready?”

The hand at his hip grabbed tighter, Merlin nodding in answer. Harry grasped around the hand still fisting his cock, and guided himself above it. Closing his eyes, he slowly sank down— brows furrowing, then a few inches more, a low moan escaping his throat, then his hand circling Merlin’s wrist and pushing him out of the way, then the last few inches and then finally, finally! He threw back his head at the overwhelming sensations, Merlin’s cock fully inside him. Harry let out a shaky breath that ended up in a whimper; taking some time to adjust. Merlin lifted both of his hands to Harry’s neck. Sliding them slowly, he tried to soothe the tension in his shoulders. The touch made Harry shudder violently. They exchanged another heated glance and Harry moved Merlin’s hands to properly brace himself, palms flat against the other’s chest. He started to roll his hips, slowly, purposefully. At that Merlin groaned, heels digging into the couch. The friction was maddening and Harry’s rhythm did nothing to alleviate the itch; instead, he dragged out each movement, causing warm tingles to pool low in their belly. Merlin was pinned down and relished in it, unable to do anything else than take what Harry was offering him, the arousal mixing with a fondness that left him speechless. The room quickly filled with half-choked moans and whimpers as Harry picked up the pace, his thrusts each a bit more forceful than the precedent, his nails digging in the hard planes of Merlin’s shoulders. He angled himself a bit lower, keening as it made Merlin’s cock brush against his prostate. His thighs trembled at the sensation— Merlin could tell Harry was close, if the look on his face was any indication. His features were etched with pleasure and yearning, heart hammering in his chest where Merlin had laid his hand. Unable to resist the temptation, Merlin started to stroke slowly at Harry’s cock. He quickly picked up the pace, making the other man falter. A twist of his wrist wrenched a high whine from Harry—

“Fuck… Merlin, you’re going to…” he trailed out, too far gone to say anything else. Merlin grinned and stroked him again one, three, five times before Harry’s arms gave out, orgasm knocking the breath out of him. He let his forehead rest next to Merlin’s head on the cushion, sighing deeply, trying to regain his bearings. His pulse was a loud beating in his ears. Vaguely, he remembered that Merlin was still balls deep into his ass.

“Darling,” he whispered, blissed-out, into Merlin’s ear, “flip us over.” Merlin’s eyebrows shot up at the request, now quite believing what had just been said.

“I want you,” Harry gasped, “to pound me. And I want to see the look in your eyes when you come. Please.” He licked at the shell of Merlin’s ear. “If you want to?” he added as an afterthought, taking the earlobe between his teeth and pulling, ever so slightly. Merlin held back a moan low in his throat.

“Jesus, Harry,” he managed to choke out, flipping them over in one swift motion, mindful of Harry’s head. He settled between his legs and braced himself on the armrest, then gave an experimental thrust.

“F—uck!” Harry shouted, oversensitive nerves lighting up. His legs went up and around Merlin’s back, heels digging in. Head thrown back and arms folded over his brow, a faint blush spreading down to his collarbones, Merlin could not drink the sight of him fast enough— Harry’s eyes had trouble focusing and tears had gathered at their corner, making it difficult not to blink everything away. Harry held on Merlin’s gaze, though; expectant, encouraging and most of all, full of warmth. The curls on the top of his head were properly tousled now, tangling in Merlin’s fingers as he tugged a fistful, Harry groaning and thrashing against the pillow in pleasure. Merlin thrust again, deeper. He carried on with an erratic rhythm— his mouth sucking a bruise at the base of Harry’s neck, making him whimper softly. A few moments later and he could already feel the tug at his gut, orgasm rippling through his body with one last thrust. He stilled and pulled out carefully, tiredness rushing back into him as he fell into Harry’s waiting arms. They remained quiet for a minute, waiting for their heartbeats to calm down, trying to process what had just happened. Harry let out a deep sigh and cleared his throat.

“I think you bloody well wrecked me,” he said, his hand caressing Merlin’s back. “Thank you.” He let his hand fall to the side, energy leaving him in a rush. He was well and truly tired, now, the bone-deep-ache kind of tired; the tired that always announced merciful sleep. The remnants of adrenaline were entirely gone. There was no post-mission uneasiness, no restless back-to-normal gap, nothing to plague him as usual. He hadn’t felt this peaceful in a long time.

“I think,” Merlin replied, voice muffled by the cushion, “that you made a right mess out of me.” Harry chuckled as Merlin kissed the skin right below his ear, tender, grateful. He pulled back and propped himself up, taking a good look at the other man’s face. The tension had left Harry’s features: a small smile ghosted over his lips, eyelids drifting shut, worry lines smoothed over his forehead. He was a sight to behold, and it made Merlin want to tuck him in and kiss him goodnight, providing him with the respite he deserved. “Thank you. For everything.”

Harry just smiled wider, eyes shut at last. Merlin took a last look at him, committing the sight to memory, and got up to get their clothes. He cleaned himself and Harry up with the handkerchief from his trouser pocket, Harry sighing at the gentle motions. Once he was satisfied he put his clothes back on in neat, precise order— forgoing the jumper because he was still feeling warm all over. Merlin folded Harry’s clothes and approached the couch where he was still sprawled, boneless against the cushion.

“You should put these back on,” he said, worried that Harry might fall asleep once again minus the clothes. “And you should go to sleep in a real bed.” He threw a glance at their daemons who were still huddled in their corner. This time, each was grooming their own fur; looking utterly pleased with themselves.

“Just…” Harry answered, “let me bask in this for a second.”

Merlin sighed, a tad annoyed but mostly amused at the other man. He kneeled next to the couch again, taking Harry’s boxers in hand.

“Well. Alright then. Only this once, though.” Merlin helped him into his pants and trousers, struggling a bit with his shirt— Harry let himself be gently manhandled into his clothes, smirking a bit when Merlin started to wrestle against his dead weight. Happy to let Merlin do as he pleased, he did not interfere with the proceedings— meaning he luxuriated in the broad hands moving him around, unwilling to lift a single finger to help. Merlin had expected his, apparently, as it did not deter him from finishing the job. Once he had collected everything else into the travel bag he grabbed at Harry, helping him up and into his arms. About to fall sleep on his feet, Harry sneaked an arm around Merlin’s shoulders to stay upright, his other hand resting on Aeliana’s head when she came to his side. Ruairidh was perched on her back.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Merlin ordered, navigating them through the room. Harry mumbled in response as Merlin unlocked the door. They went down the stairs, through corridors and then down some stairs again before they arrived at Harry’s en-suite, almost ready to fall asleep. Merlin ushered them inside and shut the door behind them, eyeing the comfortable-looking king-sized bed with some envy. He tensed up, unsure of what to do, which Harry caught on right away.

“Stay.”

A moment passed, Merlin paralyzed by the debate going on inside his mind. Should he—

“If you’d like?” Harry added. He let his head rest on Merlin’s shoulder, fluffy hair tickling his jaw. “We both need sleep. Urgently. Right now. Come on.” He detangled himself from the other man, taking off his shoes and socks and trousers, and slid into bed with a blissed-out groan. Aeliana jumped onto the end of it, making herself and Ruairidh comfortable. It seemed that the decision was already taken for Merlin, then— his daemon stifled a huge yawn and looked at him pointedly. Harry rolled over and snuggled against his pillow, patting the other in sluggish movements.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded, taking off everything but his briefs, “okay.” He slid into bed right next to Harry, all but melting into the mattress as soon as his head hit the pillow. Eyes closed, he listened to Harry’s breathing as it evened out, the soft sound lulling him to sleep.

“Good night.”

Harry did not answer, already deep into oblivion. Merlin smiled, indulgent, then surrendered to the blackness himself. 


End file.
